


Tribulation

by Tsuukai



Series: Tendering [3]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: First Time, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 02:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2007345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsuukai/pseuds/Tsuukai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Aomine,” he finally broke in, cutting his high tirade of what he was expecting of the night, face slack and uninterested, eyes lidded and glancing briefly as the other stiffened at his tone, “I’m not going to do anything to you.” He settled back on the chaise, one leg stretched out before him as the other remained firmly planted on the plush carpet, knee pointing away; he draped his arm on his thigh, patting it. “You’re going to do you.”</p>
<p>Daiki licked his lips.</p>
<p>Continues from ‘False Modesty’.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tribulation

**Author's Note:**

> The point of view changes a couple of times, but this is mostly from Aomine’s view. Because of the change in style, I might have…glossed over while editing. If there are any mistakes or discontinuity, feel free to inform me. I’ve been razing the flow of this for a while, so I’m not sure any more…

The towering apartment high-rise was a daunting sight to Daiki. He had, illegally enough, coerced a fellow officer to use his linked up computer in the car, and gotten Kagami’s current address, not surprised by the prime location the man lived in. he remembers Tetsu having said that Kagami had lived near the Tokyo Gymnasium back in their school days, and the area was were the rich folks ambled about. Seeing Kagami’s building with high digital security and even a sitting duck out front, Daiki sauntered casually to the man, flashing his badge.

“Hey there, I need to get in to talk to a person of interest without them knowing I’m coming. You think you could help me, my man?” the middle-aged man looked a little suspiciously at him, requested or his badge to peer up close, and then seemingly satisfied, sighed and let him thorugh. Daiki grinned, playfully saluting the man who gave an odd look back, but he did not care as he went for the elevators.

It took long enough to ride up to the fifteenth floor, Daiki tapping his foot to a beat only he could hear since there was no elevator music; for a posh place, they sure were parsimonious on the small stuff. Reaching the designated floor with a ping so soft, he pushed against the back mirror after a onceover, running a hand through his hair last to keep it down. Not like he had to worry with it being so short.

He walks down the passage briskly, willing his nerves to die or he would kill them and himself sooner rather than later and found himself suspended before a plain dark grey door against a paler grey wall décor. His arm travelled the distance slowly, counting the seconds it took to knock on the door, not having enough mental energy to use something as noise as the bell. He wonders if this is why he still cannot rise up to detective after failing the test two times.

When the door opens to a sullen-faced Kagami, though, Daiki pushes the depressing thoughts away. He will have more time (and luck) reasoning out his failing when he is not mildly buzzed on alcohol, and when he has (slightly more appealing) things to do now. So Daiki also pushes through the door, past the sighing redhead, who shakes his head before closing the door. Daiki quickly unstuffed his feet from his shoes, swiping one foot to sweep them into a corner from where they dropped and walked further into the house. Kagami, still at the door, bends down to straighten his shoes, placing them neatly against the edge of the _genkan_. He follows, almost despairing, and watches Daiki from the opening of his wide, spacious living room.

Daiki took in the décor on passing: a central fluffy red floor mat designated where the plain white sofa set sat, orange cushions and dark blue throws spread about the surface of the sofas. The chaise lounge though, was a deep orange, its back facing the entrance, but allowing its occupant to view the floor-to-ceiling windows across from it. Currently the curtains were draped, a muted navy blue of blackout material, and the room was not too hot and not too cold with the air conditioning on; it was cosy. Or it would have been if Daiki was not anticipating what might happen in the next few minutes.

Kagami disappeared into the sectioned off kitchen, opening his steel-coated fridge and removing two water bottles, one which he chucked with full force at Daiki. He glared, snatching it out of the air, but nodded and mumbled his thanks as he cranked the bottle open and took a long swallow. He was slightly grateful for the distraction, as well as the opportunity to take in his battlefield.

“Well, what do you want?”

Daiki frowned, annoyed at being blindsided by the aggressor. Kagami did not exit the kitchen area though. In fact, the redhead leaned onto his elbows on the clear counter, crossing his wrists, returning his stare from under long red-black bangs.

He gulped. “I came here, what more can I want?”

Kagami’s lips quirked, but otherwise he did not move.

“Well?!”

The other man sighed. It was a long and drawn out sigh, that seemed to come from deep inside his gut. The sound grated his ears.

He snapped.

“What is that supposed to mean?!” he snarled, watching as Kagami moved, walking steadily towards the centre of his almost vacant apartment, sitting on the edge of the chaise. “So you were playing with me! You had no desire to even get past all that fooling around, huh? Leading me on the first time, then taking advantage of my interest by _publicly_ _humiliating_ me so that you could get your laughs, and—”

“Aomine,” he finally broke in, cutting his high tirade of what he was expecting of the night, face slack and uninterested, eyes lidded and glancing briefly as the other stiffened at his tone, “I’m not going to do anything to you.” He settled back on the chaise, one leg stretched out before him as the other remained firmly planted on the plush carpet, knee pointing away; he draped his arm on his thigh, patting it. “ _You’re_ going to do you.”

In the cool room, sweat beaded his hairline, trailing from the edge and slipping down his nape, cold, his back muscles shivering. His body understood what Kagami was saying before his annoyed eyes snapped open wide as the words—a command if he ever heard one—registered in his overworked brain.

Daiki licked his lips.

“…You want…me to ride you?” his voice was softer than he has ever heard it, or maybe it was due to the pounding in his ribcage, or the blood shooting from his brain straight down to his groin was making him light headed, enough that sounds were now difficult to comprehend. Nevertheless, an amused snort filtered through from the redhead.

“Is that what you want to do?”

Kagami’s voice was different, that was easy enough to tell apart. Gone was the annoyance at his arrival, and gone was the pretence of making Daiki the needy little slut he was currently acting in front of him, and all it took was for the eyes to turn just that shade of rosewood, dark and deep, looking like the molten version of his normally bright vivid eyes. Daiki could see the lust and dominance in those eyes, and despite the fact that his inner beast was rearing its head to push Kagami down, something in him wanted to be held down by those eyes; it was making him crazy, and Daiki could not breath, the intensity of those eyes were just that strong.

Struggling with it, Daiki managed to pant out with exaggerated ease—something that was churning his stomach at by trying to stand his ground—“Wouldn’t you like that, you bastard,” dismissing the notion that he wanted what Kagami was suggesting.

A slight movement was the only change that got Daiki suddenly on alert: a soft and wistful smile was painted on those lips, eyes drifting to look elsewhere, completely writing his audience off.

Furious, but still standing in his spot, Daiki tempered to start bitching again, but the man’s words stopped him short, furious. “I would like to stop playing this game with you, Aomine. It’s tiring when we’re both not into it.”

“Not into it?” he snapped, teeth clenching so hard, his jaw gave out a weird whine. “ _You’re_ the bastard that’s _playin_ ’ me!”

Kagami ignored him, placing most of his face into his left hand’s palm, still not bothered to look at him. Every other limb of his body was relaxed, a complete contrast to Daiki’s.

Instead of feeling vindictive, though, Daiki was feeling a sense of loss.

Usually, when people avoided his eyes he felt like he won the stare down, that he was the top dog, that the other was not mentally strong enough to keep toe-to-toe with him. But standing in the middle of Kagami’s near-Spartan (though tastefully neat loft) alone and ignored, he was feeling small. For the first time in twenty-six years, Daiki felt like the shortest person in the room.

A sound he did not recognise caught his ears, surprised that it was coming out of him.

He reached up an arm to clench at his shirt on the breast of his chest, feeling the heavy beats practically drawn all functioning thought in his brain. He did not think it was possible, but he was wondering if _this_ was how all the women he bedded felt, being disregarded after trying so hard for his attention.

At that precise moment, he hated Kagami for making him feel that way, stripping off even a shred of ego.

Daiki hated it.

But he would hate not following through even more.

 

 

Taiga beckoned him closer, fighting the smirk that was trying its hardest to flush against his slowly heating skin.

Watching Aomine was like watching the best strip tease ever. The man shivered with every movement that exposed more dark skin, not knowing he was slowly taunting Taiga with glimpses of perked nipples and a flushed abdomen, ripped without any noticeable fat he guessed policemen tend to gain during duty—what, with all that junk he is sure Aomine eats. It tickles him, the thought that he wants to see some fat so he can rib the man: ‘ _Want some help losing that?’_ , and almost being able to imagine the utter humiliation he would face if his colleagues were around.

Taiga stopped his train of thought when he realised how sadistic his fantasies were becoming.

And then realised he was having _fantasies_.

Of Aomine.

Of pushing _Aomine Daiki_ around.

He concentrated more when Aomine dropped his hoodie behind him, stepping closer, and working on stripping out of the racerback tank he had. The flush was going up further, heating dark skin so much that Taiga could see the discolouration clearly. Heart beating at the prospect of being the reason Aomine was all hot and bothered, Taiga let loose a small smile that tilted his lips up slightly.

Aomine pursed his lips tightly in return.

 

 

Daiki fought the hardening in his jeans, embarrassed for its arrival due to a mere beckoning, by a man who he used to look down on some years back. Awkward as it was in his tight jeans, he managed to sidle close enough for Kagami to tap his groin, those too warm hands eliciting a sharp intake of air that burned his chest. Daiki wondered why his pride was not howling to rip that hidden smugness out of Kagami’s attitude, to lay it bare and feast on it so that he could show that Daiki would not succumb so easily. Not even an hour prior, Daiki had been at his mercy, but he was determined to show that he could withstand the temptation; he did a routine inhale-exhale that the academy taught students when facing situations for the first time, and concentrated at the shift of air moving in and out.

No matter the racing thoughts of fighting this clamping feeling down, however, Daiki was pulled out of it rather harshly by being made to kneel on the red plush carpet, head ducked between the groin of his transgressor. “Since you’re already up by two,” Kagami said, almost chatting with a husky undertone, thick fingers curling lightly into the short hair at the back of his nape, “You can return the favour, right, Aomine-chan?”

Daiki growled at the honorific—becoming an almost nickname, now—before realising what being next to Kagami’s crotch did for the man. With hooded red eyes, skin around the creases lightly flushed, it looked as though Kagami was fighting off being turned on.

Suddenly in high spirits, Daiki grinned, pressing his parting lips against the hot tenting in the other’s pants.

 

 

Taiga noticed the shift in aura immediately when Aomine went down.

It was not that difficult, actually very hard to ignore the shit-eating grin on the dark skinned man’s lips, but he was careful not to voice out his displeasure at seeing the change in mood. Contrary to it, Taiga felt himself grow stiffer, a rush of heat spreading from clenched abdominal muscles down to his hips, concentrating into a deep and heavy ball in his groin, Taiga waited as Aomine used his teeth to pull down his zipper, blue eyes glittering like gems and mischief.

Aomine pawed him then, using his large hands to (messily) undo his pants’ clasp, spreading it open to get at his boxer briefs. He snapped at the band once, twice, and looking as if he would do it again, he grabbed at the man’s silken blue locks. The look in those eyes, however, shifted back into defiant, and Taiga almost purred at its revival, bending over to loom over a bowed dark blue head.

“I can tell you’re waiting to slobber my cock with that messy mouth of yours, but don’t push it,” he thumbed the damp hairline in small circles, adding more pressure as he continued instructing, “But you know…I can really do without your version of petty S&M.”

The tightening of Aomine’s jaw as his grin shifted to barring of teeth made Taiga growl low in his chest with pleasure at the feral look; Aomine really got a man going without really knowing he was doing so.

He reached out and let his fingertips graze the police officer's cheek, though when the man flinched, the deceivingly tender gesture changed into a firm grip of his jaws. Aomine tried to glower at him and move away, but Taiga just closed the distance. “Should help jet start that mouth of yours, you know, the natural lubricator,” he said, pushing his thumb past firmly shut lips, prying it open. “Don’t have any of that stuff lying around here. Unless…” the hand that he draped at the back of the chaise came forward to trail down the exposed chest and to the still jeaned man, scratching lightly at his obvious arousal, “…you want to do it completely _raw_?”

It seemed the word made the other spring in surprise, arching into his touch, no matter if they were wanted or not.

In response, Aomine’s nimble fingers shakily pulled him out, dark red curls cresting the base of his thick in width member. He was not overly big otherwise, but he could tell that Aomine was eyeing his size in apprehension of how the night was going to play out.

The reaction was a complete 180 compared to the first time Aomine had stripped and cuffed him, in control of the situation, in control of his primal urges. And now, he was on his knees, reverently looking up at him from between his spread knees, mouth unhinged to let a rose pink tongue lay thick against white teeth held back by his pliant lips.

Taiga almost felt sorry for him.

Together, they looked at the head, flushed a deep red similar to his hair, and its veins taut along the rigid surface. A bead of pre-cum pushed out of the slit at the tip, rolling down over the head to disappear into the hair, before another bead followed, and then another; all Aomine really had to do was keep staring at it the way he was, awed and mesmerised, and Taiga’s body would be doing all the work.

Deciding to rectify that, he asked, “Let’s play a game, shall we?”

Aomine tore his gaze away to look up at him again. Taiga liked his position only because his dick was in the way of Aomine’s face, looking as though the man were praying to it. Stoking his ego, he palmed dark smooth skin, not even a hint of stubble, edging him closer to the exposed shaft. “When I say ‘Ah’, you say ‘Ahh’, and then I go in, okay?” he teased, wondering if Aomine even got the joke.

He did not.

Instead Aomine hesitantly darted his eyes back to where his member bobbed it the air a few times before settling at a slightly upward angle. Heated digits came to lightly curl around the base of his cock, before realising that he had virtually no support, so shifted one hand to drape across one of his muscular thighs.

Taiga watched as he leaned forward, slowly, hesitating and nervous, before the tip of his pink tongue peeked out of quivering lips. When the tongue made more of an appearance, it licked the lips of the owner,  before, as if sacrilege to not do so, a flat lick pressed against Taiga's underside, and dragging all the way up to the slit to lap at the pre-cum beading merrily up there.

Taiga was amazed at the soft texture of Aomine lips.

The heat of his mouth was not really turning him on—far from it—but the expression on the male was doing wonders for the annoyance that had built up all these weeks since he had met Aomine. He figures that said annoyance is actually something better defined with another word, but Taiga does not delve on it any longer as Aomine started to softly suck at the sides of his cock before taking the head into his mouth for a brief suck, and then back again at the sides.

“You’re pretty good at leading it on, but not so much on the sucking,” he commented, voice light as he calmed his breathing so that he could enjoy watching Aomine force him to ejaculate. Maybe he should, all on his face, just to see the shame that would light up in those blue eyes of his. The hand holding the base of his cock squeezed lightly, twirling as it moved from bottom up, milking, and Taiga let out a slow whine against the roof of his mouth at the sensation. “Yea, just like that.”

He dropped a hand over blue locks, patting and massaging nonchalantly, he praised the man on his knees taking in more of his manhood than before. “Doing good Aomine-chan,” Taiga grinned, wide, and flushed cheeks, “Now let’s switch so that I can make full use of this hard on you started up.”

 

 

Daiki was finally getting the hang of having such a large object in his mouth, not deep-throating yet (and not being allowed to bite it off), that when Kagami said to switch, he almost scowled to be allowed to finish the man off.

At least once.

He was pulled off carefully, but roughly had their positions switched. Kagami felt his flanks and hitched fingers into the band of his pants, teasing as he unbuttoned and pulled down the clothing, only to fling it gaily over his head. The slight thump of it falling on the floor was followed with Kagami grasping his hardened length to stroke it a couple of times, just as though making sure it was staying up, before thick fingers inched in between his thighs to push them away from each other.

Daiki blushed hard with the sight of his spread open legs in front of Kagami, mouth firmly shut.

The man was unbothered by his reactions yet, more interested at eyeing what only he could see, and Daiki was going to tell him off for it when, as light as a feather, fingertips brushed against a spot he has been trying desperately to not think of for weeks.

As though remembering for him, his ass puckered and twitched, almost enticing Kagami’s fingers to touch and tease, and preferably enter.

Kagami laughed, bringing his face down so close to his crotch, he was feeling uncomfortable, hot breath fanning the flames of his arousal hotter than any female has done. The man was looking so judiciously, for all he knew noting down the few beauty spots he has lining on the inside of his thigh, or even the scar he has from falling off the tree when he was young, catching after summer beetles, or even—he gasped as Kagami used his tongue to lick one thick hot line along the same path of spots he had been cursing their existence before.

“That’s so cute,” Kagami’s voice dropped another pitch, and like a heavy bass, Daiki felt it along the under skin of his thigh.

The redhead trailed more licks that turned to little nips and then bites that was driving Daiki insane for the need to scream and shout for the other to just get on with it, because he possibly could not continue the torture awaiting him—those fingers were not forgotten, circling his asshole so softly, it was starting to tickle.

Daiki jerked his arms out to grasp red strands of hair in between shaking fingers, hoping to force the man or pull his away at the slightest notice. He just did not know _what_ notice he should react on, but Kagami did not refute his hold. Maybe he welcomed it, if the humming between his thighs had anything to say, making his muscles vibrate pleasantly at the noises.

However, the sensations did not last.

The same tongue that was moistening a trail to his balls was now being used to wet his entrance.

Daiki lurched up, moving away. But Kagami foresaw this and, with quick reflexes, grabbed onto his thin hips, pulling him back into place before he withdrew his arms to help his tongue push in, using his fingers. It appeared that Kagami thought there was enough lubrication _grâce à_ spit, poking his ass with both index fingers, wiggling in without waiting for him to get used to it.

“Wait!” he managed to snap, a painful burn spreading from that point upwards, but the redhead ignored him, concentrating on God only knew what. Fingers and thumbs probed the area surround his asshole, and just behind his balls, Daiki remembered what Kagami had done before. As if a repeat performance, he could feel the smug aura wafting off the man as Daiki gasped in surprise and moaned long when Kagami found his prostate.

All thought of pain was eradicated for the moment all of Daiki’s muscles chose to convulse as one.

“Let’s ease you up now,” if Daiki was paying attention, he would have realised that Kagami sounded a little too rushed for someone in control of the situation, and he would have realised, a few minutes later when hot hands gripped his waist, that he could have reversed their positions if only he was not writhing in awkward pleasure from someone fingering his ass.

An unusual sensation of a hot hard object pushing at the place Kagami was just wiggling two (or was it three? Daiki cannot even wrap his mind around it) fingers in, alerted Daiki that _this was it_.

Kagami enters him slowly, popping it through the first barrier, treating Daiki like an unexplored cave and he was the first adventurer braving the darkness. He eases himself, breathing slowly enough that Daiki feels every move the man makes above him. “Hey,” he tries to catch his attention, hands palming his body sensually and calmly, “Breathe with me,” he instructs, and Daiki shudders as he tries to follow through, the sensation and heat of being filled so new to him, it scared him.

As one, Kagami directed the pace by breathing in long and slow with Daiki following through shakily. He pulled his arms to Kagami’s shoulders, gripping tightly, hearing a grunt of displeasure, but the other did not shake him off. Instead, he moved in some more, making Daiki gasp and tug Kagami’s upper body closer.

“You’re doing fine, you little baby,” and Daiki is wondering why he calls him that when he feels hot tears rushing to their demise off his cheeks. He tries to scowl, to show he is not a baby like the other calls him, but he cannot. “C’mon, little baby, you’re doing fine. Just breathe with me and relax,” Kagami leans over some more, and under his clenched hands, can feel large muscular shoulders straining as he deliberately moved in a manner that would lessen Daiki’s plight, and appreciating it only minutely, he lessened up on his puncturing of muscles. “Oh, feeling good?” Kagami asked him, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Daiki managed to scoff, the sound coming from deep in his chest. “Har har, don’t kid yourself,” and almost winced at the hard thrust the man resorted to, finally reaching the highest point within.

Daiki choked.

Then Kagami moved; long strokes intermittent with slow gyration, he eased Daiki into the groove. He used his fingers to distract him from the widening of his ass, lightly teasing his sides so that he lets out a huff of a laugh, and then moving to his pecks to graze them with dull nailed thumbs before warm hands grab the area around and squeezes gently, forcing them to make a valley that Daiki refuses to think of as a cleavage, and eases off by pinching them and releasing, just as one would pluck. He did not think it could be arousing, but the attention the redhead was giving them made his stomach wind up even more, and in turn, he was just a few more thrusts from expelling all that pent up excitement right onto Kagami’s muscled chest that was heaving above him, waiting to be soiled.

However, Kagami stalled just as he was reaching the highest point in all his whole active sexual years, frowning over his head as he gripped harder on his hip, keeping him from moving himself to restart the pleasurable friction inside of him. The hand tightened, painfully so, and Daiki could only grunt out in pain, mumbling in an intangible, “What is it?” He does not think Kagami even got it, because the frown deepened.

“Hey,” the man said instead, moving finally, only Daiki realised that he was moving _out_. He moaned, despondent, sounding more like a whine. “Hey,” he continued, leaving only the head of his member past his sphincter, but, with each breath from above him, Kagami was threatening to pull it past that wall as well; “Tell me what you want or I won’t move.”

Daiki choked again, his breath not moving from his lungs, desperate to keep his muscles from dying by drowning in lactic acid. His long limbs reached up to tangle in red hair that was just past the ears, curling it around his fingers and pulling his chest up towards the other man. He forced whatever air he could through his narrowed airways, concentrating more than usual on actually _breathing_. “-e,” he managed out, sadly not coherent enough for Kagami to get the point.

“What is it?” Kagami asked again, words a soft murmur against his throat, his lips brushing upwards to where it connected to his earlobe, pulling with teeth as he repeated, low, softer, “What is it?”

“-please,” he nearly sobbed, holding himself up so that his ass was held by two large palms, kneaded gently, long thick fingers reaching his hole in only stray brushes. “Please…fuck…me...”

Soft puffs of air signalled that Kagami laughed, silently, pressing his lips on the juncture of his neck again, trailing similar kisses along his trembling jaw until he reached Daiki’s lips. “Such crude words, Aomine,” he said, using those thick hot fingers of his to hook themselves into his rim again, pulling his hole open, “Is that what we’re doing?”

Daiki cried. He did not know what the man was saying, but he was teasing the puckering ring of muscle with two fingers, spreading it so much that he could not feel the hot head in his ass anymore. He surged down, trying to clamp shut around it, in some form of disobedience, but Kagami was quick—he pulled out completely, the noise a distinct _plop_ while putting in four fingertips in its stead. Daiki was hardly given a chance to voice out any more distress because Kagami pushed two of those tips in past the second knuckle, pulling them apart, while the other two tips nudged around the thin walls of his rims away from the centre, slowly, making his asshole gape as wide as it would go.

Cringing, he slobbered out a “Please, please”, but Kagami shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re begging for, Aomine,” the tips released only to lightly circle the rim, the sensation such a contrast to the treatment he was currently enduring. He could feel it twitch, aching. “You’ve already showed me how you are such a good little beggar, but… Aren’t I asking you something else?” when all he received was more whines, Kagami asked again, his voice dropping in tone, something deeper than its usual gruffness, a deep guttural like tone, “Is fucking what we’re doing?”

Daiki honestly did not know how to answer that. His mind drew a blank on what to reply with: honesty, which he thought would be ‘ _Yes, we are’_ or complete bullshit, ‘ _No, we’re not_ ’. Despite where he was, being the _good little beggar_ Kagami said he was, Daiki knew there was no love lost between them, and granted, what he was feeling was not really love—Daiki went years without thinking of Kagami until he saw him after such a long time, and then again, whenever he noticed the other man he would be filled with this carnal need to bed or _be_ bedded—pure lust. The game Kagami was saying they should stop, however, was just that, a game. So honestly, the answer should be, ‘Yes we are’, but his mouth refused to pronounce those words.

Working his jaw, he tried to force them out, a feeling of dread settling at the base of his spine the longer it took for him to answer. Those red eyes were darkening to a hue that reflected all colour, and it scared him. Demure, a posture and feeling he discarded when he must have been but a wordless babe at his mother’s hip, Daiki exhaled out, breathless, “No, we’re not.”

It appeared to be the right thing for, with a grim pursing of his lips, Kagami relinquished withholding of penetrating Daiki, slipping in an inch before withdrawing his fingers, the muscle rippled as it contracted, trying to get back into its original size, though it slowly wound around the heated (and much missed) member of one Kagami Taiga. Considering its past offence of being removed out earlier than deemed proper, Kagami’s tip was held tight by the sudden clench of muscles, the walls moving closer as Daiki moaned, literally sucking up the length by his own strength. Kagami chuckled with shorter pants of air, the indescribable feeling of being milked following his decision to treat Daiki for his answer.

Daiki lost all thought then, when with an awkward shift of his body to seat his rump into the lap of Kagami, he hit a spot that he had never known prior to when this game started between the two men. Heaving upwards with a start, it took all of Kagami’s brawn to stop Daiki from pounding himself onto the same spot.

Kagami followed through, though, easing lean hips with a see-sawing motion to rock against the ball of nerves just shy of being abused, taking his time to initiate Daiki what the next few minutes were going to contain—him being blown out of his mind into a place of pure blankness, and only the heat of soaring pleasure with a dash of pain, would be seating with him on the ride. It brought a tingling that travelled up his spine and cruelly caressed his chest muscles, his nipples straining so much, he was finding them standing to attention painful.

Daiki cried. Honest to God, he cried throwing his arms across thick muscular shoulders as his thigh muscles quivered. From where they touched the tops of Kagami’s thighs, he could feel the man tense up and, with no more warning, large hands clenched the femoral biceps, grabbing up and hitching his knees so high, Daiki held onto Kagami even more, clawing to keep on as the redhead heaved himself to start moving.

Kagami thrust deep into him, slow and full, flush as they were against each other. In this position, Daiki could feel him all the way into his stomach, as if being punched from inside, and while not a wholly comfortable feeling, it seemed like he could have it no other way. Each planar surface of Kagami’s torso rubbed up against his own, the friction just adding to his undoing as the larger man increased his thrusting to long and deep.

When Kagami started tilting him backwards onto the chaise again, Daiki scrambled to keep his hold, one hand tangling with the chain he wore around his neck. Gripping tightly, he did not know he was chocking the man until a loud growl of “Fucking let go” made Daiki leave his shoulders to drop down. Before he could even curse, Kagami was shifting to another position, simultaneously increasing his long thrusts to pounding. The hands holding his knees tightened and forced them over corded clavicles, and through barely opened eyes and sweat, Daiki saw his dark skinned legs high up in the air a second before Kagami bore down on him, bending him impossibly in half, and _fucked_ him.

Before he knew it, Daiki was meeting every hard thrust, lifting himself, and the pleasure coursing through him in submerging waves left him with no air to breathe. The harder Kagami drove himself in, the harder Daiki was feeling at the edge of reason. Soon Kagami released one leg to brace himself on the cushioned furniture, hitting deeper than before, grunting in a manner so like a mantra. Only to realise that it was Daiki himself whimpering gibberish through the feverish pace Kagami set for them.

Wet sounds of them colliding bodily filled the space around them, along with shallow huffs and groans and whimpers; a cacophony of noises that made something coil in the pit of Daiki’s stomach, urging to rush out. Another hand—Kagami’s, that was holding his leg—came to wrap around his hardened flesh between their bodies, and Daiki almost spat out expletives with his remaining strength as Kagami increased the pressure all at one go.

“Don’t go off yet,” it seemed it was easy for Kagami to continue a conversation when he could barely let out a ‘no’.

Daiki felt the swelling and the crippling pleasure that was denied release building up like a bomb; his sight was leaving him, and robbed from that sense, he could feel every shift and move Kagami made inside of him with his thick pulsing cock, which was why he knew when the member enlarged for a brief throb, he was close.

Kagami let go of him, then, and shocked at his freedom, his muscles clenched in a confused mixture of pain and high pleasure, rigid, and then spilling everything he was worth between unyielding torsos. Unbeknownst to him, as he came, he clenched down so firmly around the other, that it was all that was needed to drive him over the edge.

The sensation was unparalleled to anything he has felt before, the gushing of hot liquid in his ass. He knows it is not supposed to be possible but he thinks he can almost taste the man on his tongue; that was how deep he filled him with his seed. Kagami rode out the wave, slowing down in his own rhythm even though Daiki was limp. But he was not going to complain—in the moments that Kagami was busy being undone, Daiki took in the flushed cheeks, the panting mouth, and—he reached out with one shaky hand, his muscles more like gel now, and carded red hair away from his eyes—and Kagami looked like a partially sated beast.

That, threw Daiki in for a loop, and he watched in disbelief as he started getting hard all over again.

Dark eyes that had been watching his expression trailed down his chest to his groin. A dark pink tongue swiped a long lick on the bottom lip, leaving a shiny wet path of spittle, and followed around to the top lip.

Kagami grinned, and with a raspy chuckle asked, eyes boring a hole through his defences and into his fragile soul, “How do you want it this time?”

Daiki felt the man harden. All over again.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I mangled Aomine’s character while I kept editing. As annoyed as I am at it, I don’t think I’ll be able to manage a different outcome as of now. 
> 
> Really sorry if this did not even come close to expectations!! I’ll try harder next time.
> 
> Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated, though! :)


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